Chapter 46

End

Alone near an edge of the icy plateau, away from both the Resistance and Kathleen, Wartortle paced furiously back and forth. His mind was aflame. Fire coursed through his arms and legs, into his face. He was sorely tempted to vent his frustration to the heavens in a soul-numbing yell. To drain himself of his anger and bitterness with a scream. As it was, he paced with his claws clenched into fists.

He was required to leave. Humanity would never allow a human, even in a Pokémon body, to remain on the island. Preserve Alpha had been given its name for a reason. Among all natural reserves in the world, it was the largest and purest. Wartortle was to return to his home of Castelia City and become human again.

He'd never stopped to consider if humans would come to the island. Never thought about what would happen after the boosts were ended and Victini captured. Or what would become of Wartortle after his role in the disaster had been fulfilled. That distant, unknown future had never been his focus.

Now that it had arrived, he saw that he couldn't stay. He'd already poisoned the island with his humanity. Making a bank, outfitting teams with supplies and gear, introducing complex strategies to battles. He'd given birth to an entire organization of Pokémon behaving in ways that were not entirely natural for them. Granted, Quil had done just as much to see it grow, but Wartortle had ensured it operated according to his human vision. If Wartortle stayed, he wouldn't be able to sit back, keep his mouth shut, and enjoy the primal culture and practices of Pokémon on the island. He could not change who he was. He'd always be tempted to raise ideas and make inventions that had taken humans centuries of progress to create.

No, Wartortle had to go back to where he belonged. Back to his lab, his science. His calling. With Victini bound for a lifetime of imprisonment, the team would need him more than ever. And, he realized, part of him was eager to refine the brainstate transferal process further using his first-hand experience. His research was what he was meant to do. It was what his whole life had been building toward, before that fateful morning had interrupted everything.

Besides, he could probably do more to ensure a long and pristine future for Preserve Alpha as a human in Castelia than as a Pokémon on the island. He was now one of two individuals in the history of the world to have experienced life as both a human and a Pokémon. That unique perspective might grant him some sway when he spoke out against urbanization and human occupation of the island. The moment was sure to come. Victini's words about overpopulation had been no lie; their brainstate transferal technology had changed the world forever. Whether in a month, a year, or a decade, there would come a time when the island's status as a reserve would be under attack. Wartortle planned on being there when it did.

Despite all those logical and compelling reasons, and despite knowing that the human world was where he belonged, Wartortle did not want to leave. His insides burned with the injustice of it all. He'd been given no choice in the matter. He was being forced to go, after he'd devoted his life as a Pokémon to the inhabitants of the island. After he'd become a leader in a crusade of Pokémon. After his essential contribution in earning the Resistance, no, the world, a victory against all odds. Even after all of that, after all he'd done, this was his reward?!

It was backward! It was wrong! He had succeeded. Everything had turned out alright in the end. Why did he have to leave now? It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

He broke from his pacing pattern to step behind the remains of one of the pale blue icicles that had been pointing to the clouds before the Resistance's arrival on the plateau. Now, it was a line of icy fragments piled ten feet high. Thus hidden from view, Wartortle finally allowed himself to slam the ground with his fists. He blasted water over the edge of the plateau and watched it splash against rock far below. He wanted to bite something, something that would snap or break, but everything in sight was solid ice.

A few moments later, he fell to his belly, panting. It had felt good, to blow all of the energy of his outrage. Feeling spent, he rested himself. Darker thoughts set in. He'd never had the opportunity to see all the beautiful sights the island had to offer. To visit its gorgeous locales. To see the ingenious ways that Pokémon had adapted to their environment, like in Swanna's lodge and Cavetown's glowing caverns. He'd never attained the mastery of water that Zell had displayed, commanding his element through incredible battling techniques as easily as he wiggled his claws. Now, he never would.

Wartortle sighed a deep breath out of his nostrils as he rested his chin on the ice. He'd be leaving everything he'd begun to build. All the beginnings that would have wonderful futures. All the Pokémon he'd met. The Pokémon that he'd never had the chance to really get to know, to battle alongside and improve together. To call friends. Hayzin. Viper. He could see her head bobbing with enthusiasm before his eyes. Bein, to whom he owed so much. He'd have loved to meet Keel the Marshtomp again and share a friendly battle with him. Peroo, his voice so free and full of life. Loria.

Quil. Wartortle's steady breathing faltered. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take another deep breath.

Maybe he wouldn't have to leave forever? Maybe he could visit? But no, they would never let him. He'd never be able to return, neither as human nor Pokémon. After this incident, the security and protection of Preserve Alpha would be absolute. As he cast his gaze across the vast sea, he searched for some way to prevent his departure from being permanent. Yet there was no hope that he could see. This would be a one-way trip.

He pushed himself to his feet. Now that the last moments of his time on Preserve Alpha were here, Wartortle found himself clinging to every detail. The sights of the beautiful vista before his eyes. The murmurs and conversations of the Resistance beyond the other side of the ice chunks, their voices diverse in a way to which humans could not hope to compare. The feeling of his tail covered in fur, and the sense of safety his heavy shell provided. Kathleen and the others were waiting for him. His time on the island was running out. His new life was coming to an end.

"Wartortle? What are you doing over here?"

He did not turn to look as Quil joined him at the lip of the plateau behind the shattered icicle. When Wartortle looked down at his feet, he could see the ice sparkle with Quil's fires. He didn't answer. He didn't dare to speak. That would be progressing the moment, rushing it along. He wanted it to last.

"What did that human say? What's going on?" came Quil's voice with a concerned and uncertain tone.

"Turns out Victini was lying," Wartortle said softly. "There was no bet. He came here by himself, and I volunteered later to stop him. And I didn't choose Squirtle or give up my memories out of arrogance, those were accidents."

"That's great to hear Wartortle. Really, it is. You didn't have to 'atone' or be so hard on yourself after all. But what's wrong? Why aren't you happy about that?"

"It's always been strange for me. Having this dual nature. I feel it more than ever now, with humans standing on one side and Pokémon on the other. I don't think I ever told you, but I always looked at it as having two lives. My old life, and my new life." He glanced back out to the sea. "Part of me is excited to return to my work, to do what I was born to do. But part of me hates that I have to leave all these great Pokémon. We've become so much more than a force resisting boosted Electric-types that abuse their power. I hate that I have to leave that when we were only getting started."

A few seconds of silence passed before Quil said, "I don't think I understand. I must have misheard you. What...what are you saying?"

Wartortle finally turned to look at his friend. "Quil, they gave me time to say goodbye. But...I have to go. I have to go back to Castelia City. Forever."

The vibration of Quil's fires stuttered for a moment. His mouth was open, but it was a few seconds before he managed to speak. "You...you're going away? You're leaving?"

Wartortle said nothing. He tried to ingrain the image in his mind. Quil, standing there on his hind legs, face frozen in shock, the dawn's light shining on his two-toned fur. This would be the last time he saw that expression on Quil's face. It would be the last time he spoke with Quil for the rest of his life. With his departure coming so quickly, every instant was a hundred times more significant.

"I don't get it," said Quil in a low voice that grew in urgency. "I don't see why you have to go. Stay here with the Resistance, Wartortle. Don't go with the humans. Don't go in those big, black...things where they took Victini."

"I don't have a choice, Quil," he said slowly, gently, trying to make Quil understand. "I can't stay. Humans were never supposed to be here to begin with. I have to go back to where I belong."

"No," said Quil. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You can stay, you can stay! We can make it work. You can think of a way, can't you? You always have, you've always figured out some strategy to win!"

Wartortle looked down. "Not this time, Quil."

One of Quil's feet began to scratch at the ice. "I don't...I just don't get it. We won, we finally won. I want to show you Steady Steppe, where I grew up. I want to travel and do more great things with you. I want us to reach our final evolutions together. Don't you? Didn't we...aren't we friends?"

Wartortle winced at the note of betrayal in Quil's voice. In that moment, he wanted so badly to say that he could stay. He dearly wished there was some other way, any other way for things to end. But there was not. This was the last conversation he would ever have with Quil. This was his last moment on the island.

"Of course we're friends, Quil. You'll always be my friend. Even though we don't get to be partners anymore, I'll treasure the great things we did accomplish, and the wonderful experiences we did share."

"No!" Quil cried. His voice was no longer quiet and restrained. "You can't leave! Wartortle, what am I going to do without you? I can't..."

Wartortle tried to speak more words of reassurance, but Quil cut him off. "I only made it this far because of you, Wartortle. Can't you see? You made me strong. It was because of you that I had the courage to jump from that pier in Karprest. You convinced me my Ember wasn't awful. You encouraged me to speak in front of the crowd in Cavetown for the first time. You helped me get over my fear of water. You were always there, Wartortle. You were always there! If you leave, I don't know what I'd do!"

"You have to be strong on your own now," Wartortle said. He stared at his feet. His voice shook. He'd wanted to put on a strong face for Quil, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen. "You're going to do great."

"Wartortle, I care about you." Wartortle looked up. Quil's ruby-colored eyes shone in the light. His mouth was a quivering frown. "More than anyone else. Don't go back to your old life. I'm not ready for you to go. I'm not ready to watch you leave. I don't want this to end. I want to stay longer with my best friend."

Wartortle clenched his claws and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt them begin to burn. "I know, Quil. I want to stay too. I wish there was some way, but there isn't."

"Take me with you!" Quil blurted, and for one shining moment, his face was joyful once again.

Wartortle shook his head. "This is a one-way trip, and you don't belong over there. I'm going to be a human working in a lab, Quil. You have your family here. You have the Resistance. They're going to need their fearless founder to lead them into a new era. You have your world, and I have mine. It has to be this way."

Wartortle heard Kathleen's voice call out from the ships, "Brayden!" He peered around the edge of the crumbled ice chunks to see her waving for him to hurry. Next to her, the leader of the strike team fixed him with an intense and clearly impatient look.

Wartortle nodded and turned back to Quil, only to feel the Quilava embrace him. His friend's tight grip around his shell was incredibly warm. Wartortle shouldn't have been surprised, since Quil was a Fire-type, but it felt like he was hugging the warmth of the sun in Pokémon form.

Quil's body was racked with sobs, now. Shaking, he pulled Wartortle close. Wartortle knew he should resist, and go to the ships, but inevitability could wait this last minute for him and Quil. He relaxed into the hug, returning it as strongly as Quil.

"I don't want to say goodbye, Wartortle," said Quil around his small cries. "There has to be something we can do to keep you here. It wasn't supposed to end like this."

Wartortle thought back to all the moments they'd shared. He recalled their first meeting, when Quil had set him spinning helplessly on his shell. He recalled their first awkward and pathetic battle, with the weak, non-elemental moves they'd used. Their time hiking and battling together, growing side by side. Their shared fear of walking through Weird Woods for the first time with Bein. The wonder at seeing Moltres and Victini atop Iyrodenin. Quil's many shows of friendship and compassion in their all-too-short time together. The moment in Blind Prairie when they'd taken it upon themselves to change the world for the better by stopping Pokémon like Stolt and Raizula. The pure joy of celebrating in Blindhollow after defeating the Raichu.

He smiled as the first tear rolled down his cheek when he remembered little Quil the Cyndaquil's terror at public speaking. Yet that morning, with that glorious speech, Quil could have inspired even a lifeless rock to fight with the Resistance.

My invaluable time with Quil, time I wouldn't trade for anything...

It ends now.

"I really, really want to stay with you Quil. But we're out of time." He pulled away from Quil, putting him at arm's length. Quil's tears had already left dark stains in the short fur of his face, and they were growing damper by the second. His flames were larger and quivering faster than Wartortle had ever seen. His hind legs quaked beneath him.

Wartortle forced his expression into a smile. "I thought you didn't like water, but you're getting it all over your face."

Quil shook with a wet chuckle, and fresh tears welled from his eyes. When he spoke, Wartortle could barely understand the words in his friend's shaking voice.

"I'm so glad I got to know you, Wartortle. I'm so, so lucky that you were my friend. I've never met anyone like you. You're-" A powerful shudder went through his body, rippling into his fires. "You're irreplaceable, Wartortle."

He squeezed Quil's shoulder, letting fresh tears of his own run down both cheeks. "I feel the same way, Quil."

After memorizing the feel of the warm fur beneath his hand, Wartortle finally drew away. He took a couple of steps back. Quil followed after him with one wobbly step.

"Don't leave me alone, Wartortle."

Wartortle swallowed the lump in his throat and took an unsteady breath. With the back of one hand, he wiped the tears from his face.

"Quil...even after I leave, even fifty years from now..." He forced himself to take another step away from Quil.

Quil's hind legs finally gave out, and he fell down to his belly. He peered up at Wartortle through wet eyes. "Don't say goodbye, Wartortle."

"I'll never forget you, Quil. Never."

He walked away from his friend, toward the middle helicopter-like transport ship that would take him to Castelia City and his old life. The rear door was still lowered down like a ramp, beckoning him into the dark interior. He could feel the dismayed confusion of the Resistance Pokémon at his back as he followed Kathleen into the back of the ship. The aircraft rotors whirred to life. The ship lifted off the ice of the plateau and began moving outward to the sea. Wartortle turned, just inside the ramp's threshold, to get one last look at the place where it had all ended.

He tried to take a final glimpse to the west, to see the smoke plume above Iyrodenin. Even more, he tried to focus on the Resistance, so he could later recall the way their noble spirits matched the tall, majestic peaks of the icy mountains behind them. He tried especially hard to find certain familiar faces among the crowd, so he could have one last image of them to fix in his memory.

But all he could see was the Quilava, alone at the edge, and crying out his name.

As the ramp raised upward, obstructing his view of the plateau, Wartortle whispered his farewell to the most precious part of his life as a Pokémon.

"Goodbye, Quil."

THE END